Chapter 24

Kate

Daryl hit the gas and the big pick-up roared through the prison gate past the ambling walkers and down the gravel road. Kate, who was looking forward to getting away for a couple days, looked happily at Daryl. He stared straight ahead, a scowl etched on his face. She didn't let that dampen her excitement, she was used to his surliness. She knew he was worried about keeping her safe outside. He probably was having second thoughts about the whole idea. But he couldn't seriously expect her to spend the rest of her life behind the fences, everyone had to get out every once in awhile.

Kate wasn't being flippant. She knew anytime they left it was a risk. She had been on the waiting end of that equation enough times to have imagined every possible danger. But they wandered for seven months before they found the prison and you don't do that without picking up some skills. She knew she wasn't Michonne, but she was hardly the green city girl she was when this whole ordeal began and paired with Daryl's expertise and successful track record, not to mention his motivation to keep her alive, she was confident that they wouldn't have too difficult of a time getting what they needed and getting back home.

"Man it's freezing this morning!" Kate wiggled her stiff fingers in front of the vents, willing the heater to kick in and warm the air. She was convinced Georgia had two seasons, really cold and really hot. She missed the mild California weather.

"Just so we're clear" Daryl interrupted her thoughts on the weather, pinning her down with his stare, "While we're out here, you do exactly as I say. Can't have you arguin' about not havin' to listen to me and gettin' us killed."

She almost wanted to laugh, or maybe even demand that he give her a little credit, but she knew it wouldn't go over well and if he was going to relax enough to make this enjoyable at all, she needed to let him get this part of it out of his system.

"Ok. I promise."

"Keep your knife and gun with you and be ready to run. Sooner or later, we always run."

He wasn't telling her anything she didn't know already, but she shook her head in agreement. That seemed to satisfy Daryl for the time being and they drove on in silence for a while before Daryl mentioned there were probably CDs in the glove box. She leaned forward and grabbed the black album out of the compartment, unzipping it and flipping through the musical taste of some stranger whose truck was now theirs. She pulled a bright yellow CD out of its plastic sleeve, "Oh awesome! Sticky Fingers!"

"Huh?" Daryl grunted, glancing briefly in her direction before his eyes turned back to the road.

"The album, Sticky Fingers. The Rolling Stones. Do you like them?" She asked Daryl as she pushed it into the player. She couldn't imagine anyone not liking the Stones.

"They're a'right." He mumbled as the opening riff to Brown Sugar wailed out of the speakers. Kate immediately started dancing around in her seat, slapping the beat out on the dashboard and doing her best Mick Jagger impersonation. Daryl laughed in spite of himself.

"You're something else, ya know it?" He said, shaking his head. The song played on and Kate sang to Daryl loudly, continuing to bounce around and smile triumphantly because she had made him smile.

By the time 'Wild Horses' drifted sorrowfully through the speakers his scowl had melted away, he had his hand resting on her leg and his face had taken on a more relaxed expression.

Kate looked out the window and let the melancholy tone of the song carry her mind off. They sped past kudzu covered woods, abandoned peach stands and schools with overgrown grass and broken windows. Being isolated in the prison, it was easier to accept their new life - but out here there were reminders everywhere of the life that used to be. It seemed impossible that just over a year ago they were all carrying on, blissfully ignorant of the fact that everything was about to fall apart and that this man she shared her life with now, was a stranger to her then.

It wasn't lost on her that they would have made an unlikely pair in the old world and she would amuse herself sometimes picturing what her family and friends would think of her squirrel-hunting, cigarette-smoking man. She still marveled that they ended up together at all - two people so seemingly different that it was hard to imagine a less extreme circumstance bringing them together.

She looked over at him now, he was squinting into the sun, his greasy hair hanging in his eyes and the ever present coating of dirt clinging to his skin. A wave of gratitude washed over her.

"Daryl, do you ever think about how lucky we are?"

"Darlin', you got a funny idea of lucky."

"Don't get me wrong, this world is a shitty place and we've both lost people and seen terrible things. But we're alive. We have a safe home and we have each other. That's a lot more than most have these days." She paused. "I don't know, I guess I'm just feeling thankful and thinking how much I love you."

He took his eyes off the road and looked at her with that burning intensity that always made her ache for him, but he didn't say anything back. There was a time Kate would have said she could never be with the 'strong, silent type'. The idea of having to guess at someone's feelings and never getting to have deep conversations about emotions and thoughts sounded like a form of torture to her. But she found with Daryl it didn't bother her so much. What he failed to say was usually evident in his expression and actions. She used to have a rule for herself, she would never say 'I love you' to a man unless he had said it to her first. But she had long ago told Daryl she loved him and had continued to since, even though he had never said it back. It didn't even bother her. She knew he loved her, knew it as sure as the dead walked the Earth.

They drove along for hours. A trip that would've only taken a few back before was stretching long into the day now that the main highways were largely unusable. Miles of abandoned cars and herds of walkers pushed them onto back roads and forced them to find alternate routes. Even then they'd have to sometimes backtrack and find yet another way. Daryl would either bring the truck to a stop to stare at the map, or curse and turn around for what seemed like the thousandth time. Kate would always grow quiet and try to give him some time to get them back on track, but most of their trip was filled with long conversations. Sometimes they would talk about the prison, how they were building a stable life for themselves there, or all the new people. Kate had gotten to know almost everyone and she filled Daryl in on their stories. Where they had come from, who they had lost and what they had done before the dead drove them to live in a prison.

He would ask her questions about her life back in California. What her mom was like, who her friends were, what she did to fill her time. She always liked sharing these things with him, feeling like it helped him get to know her better and it helped her keep those memories alive in more than just her mind. She asked him about his life before too, and although he'd always find some sort of answer to give her, she got the impression it cost him something to dredge up the memories and so she tried to let him take the lead and tell her what he was ready to share.

Sometimes Daryl would tell her about the Georgia he knew, pointing out a road that led to a river or creek that he had fished in before or telling a story about a bar that Merle had gotten them both kicked out of. The Merle stories were always funny and she liked that Daryl could still share them with a smile on his face.

When they finally reached the small industrial complex that housed the plumbing and piping distributor that was first on their list, Daryl asked her to stay put while he checked out their surroundings. She sat reluctantly in the truck, nervously scanning the area while Daryl headed across the cracked asphalt towards the back property. It was surrounded by a tall chain link fence and there were stacks of pipes in all sizes filling most of the yard. Daryl, crossbow drawn and ready, approached the fence and kicked it a few times. it didn't take long for two walkers to drag themselves growling to the gate. She watched as Daryl stabbed each in the skull, wiping the black blood on his pants and heading around the front of the building. She felt a little panicky when he was out of her sight, but he returned a minute later.

"Don't think we can get in from the back, gonna have to go through the front. Judgin' by the number of cars parked here, I expect we might run into a few more walkers inside. Stay close."

They approached the gray and white cement building, Kate held her knife tightly in her hand. The texture on the hilt rubbing against her sweaty palm. Her heart raced and her mouth was dry. Daryl knocked loudly at the front entrance and they waited. A solitary walker banged against the door, it's rotting hand leaving streaks across the glass. Daryl sent the butt of his crossbow through the pane and as the walker tried to struggle through the small opening, Daryl sent a bolt through its head. He used the crossbow again to knock out the rest of the glass and they made their way carefully inside. Daryl leaned down to pull the arrow out of the walker's skull and gestured towards the cashier's counter where another walker was pinned by something, but trying its best to get to them. Daryl approached it quickly, driving his knife through its empty eye socket. It fell with a crunching sound onto the register and slipped onto the floor.

They swept the entire building, including the warehouse at the back where two additional walkers were waiting and a small hallway where the doors to the bathroom and two empty offices were found. Kate was relieved that this spot wasn't too difficult to clear and that they had done so safely. She guessed there were advantages to driving to these out of the way spots. Once they were sure they were secure, Daryl made his way through the store and then the warehouse, stuffing a large duffel bag with various tools and parts from a list Hershel had given him. They had supposedly gotten most the equipment they needed to pump water into the prison back on the Decatur run, including all the pipes, but a few things were still needed and Daryl was happy that he found them here.

When they got back to the truck, Daryl tossed the heavy bag into the bed, "Next stop - the feed & seed." He announced, quickly kissing her and giving her ponytail a playful tug.

They drove for another hour before he pulled off next to a tan corrugated metal building. The windows had long ago been broken and even from the street you could see walkers meandering about the collapsed displays. The noise of the truck alone drawing their attention towards them.

"Are we going to try to go in there?" She asked, hoping with her whole heart he'd say no.

"Naw. Too risky. Plenty of feed and seeds in Georgia, no need to get our hearts set on this one. We'll find a yellow pages and hit a couple on the way back. For now we'll go find us a place to stay."

It was mid-afternoon when they found a house for the night in an out-of-the-way neighborhood. Daryl had parked far enough down the tree lined street that their truck wouldn't immediately tip off where they were staying, but it was close enough that they could easily get to it if they had to run. They were lucky to have found a house that didn't have people or walkers. Once Daryl was satisfied that the place was empty, he went about securing it as best he could with what he found in the garage and basement. He pushed one of the living room couches in front of the door and started nailing boards across the downstairs window. While Daryl did that, Kate started combing through the rooms upstairs for anything useful. Homes were always the surest bet for supplies. If the family had left early enough, and the house hadn't already been picked through by other survivors, then there was almost always food in the kitchen, medicine in the bathroom cabinets and other everyday items that they all used to take for granted, but were treasures now.

She found a couple bags in the master bedroom's walk-in closet and her practical side rejoiced as she went to work filling them. In the bathroom she found cold medicine, a half used bottle of antibiotics, some Neosporin, a big bottle of hydrogen peroxide and an unopened package of razors. She took some bedding from the linen closet (bedding was a high demand item in the prison) and pulled the shower curtain off its bar, knowing that someone could use it to give their cell a little more privacy.

She headed to the bedroom, looking through the closet for any useful clothing, pushing the dresses and work attire to the side and taking all the jeans, sweaters and sensible shirts she could fit into the first bag and filling up half of the second one. She walked across the room to the tall dresser in the corner and was about to pull open the top drawer when she caught sight of a framed photo sitting on top. She picked it up and saw a couple in their 30's posing happily on a beach in their bathing suits. Most likely a vacation, maybe even their honeymoon. Happier times. She suddenly felt guilty and wondered who these people were. What their stories had been and where they had ended up. She put the frame back with a sigh and started going through the drawers, stuffing socks, underwear and t-shirts into the bag until she barely could zip it. She lugged the bags to the top of the stairs and tossed them to the bottom. They fell with a thud that brought Daryl investigating.

"Find some good shit?" He asked around a mouthful of nails, a hammer in his hand.

"Yep." She started down the stairs. "I think I'm done up here. Do you need any help?"

"Got the front windows done, gonna start on the back. Why don't you check the kitchen, see what we got to eat."

The house was quickly losing the light as the afternoon turned to evening and with each window Daryl covered it got a little darker. Lucky for them, whoever decorated in here had really liked candles. She got Daryl's lighter and went around to each one until the whole downstairs was bathed in flickering, yellow light.

This track of homes was fairly new and the kitchen was beautiful. There were dark cabinets, granite countertops and new stainless steel appliances. Like the rest of the house, everything in here was covered in a thick layer of dust. She found two coffee cups and a single spoon left in the sink and pictured a morning long ago where the people in the photo had a cup of coffee together before heading off to work, never suspecting the world was about to end. On the counter there was a plastic bag of mouldy bread and a bowl that she guessed had at one point held fruit, although the black, shriveled shapes had even been abandoned by flies. She skipped the fridge, knowing from experience that opening a sealed box of rotting food was a bad idea, and went straight to the pantry. She grabbed a box of granola bars, a couple cans of fruit, a jar of peanuts and two tins of chicken. She went through several drawers before she finally found the can opener and a fork for each of them (although she had her doubts Daryl would use his, his fingers being his preferred utensil) and laid them all out on the island. She found the grocery bags under the sink and went to work filling them with the rest of the items in the pantry that they could prepare back at the prison. When she was done she found Daryl in the basement and let him know dinner was ready.

After they ate, Daryl said he was going to check that everything was secure one more time before the sun completely disappeared. Kate padded into the living room, enjoying the plush carpet in socked feet. She found some fuzzy white ones with pink and gray stripes in a drawer upstairs and traded her heavy black boots for them. She stopped at a bookshelf in the living room to see if there was anything interesting to read when she happened upon a wedding album. It was black leather and "Christine and Doug, June 5, 1999" was stamped in silver on the cover. She opened it and saw the same faces from the photo upstairs smiling back at her. She sat down on the long blue couch and flipped through the wedding memories of strangers: the beaming bride being escorted down the aisle by her father, the obligatory shot of the wedding party creepily watching the couple kiss, and the bride and groom force feeding each other cake. They looked so happy in all the photos and now strangers were eating their food and wearing their socks. Maybe Doug and Christine were still ok. So many of the houses they had searched or stayed in before they found the prison had walkers in them, but this house was empty. Maybe they had gotten to someplace safe. Maybe.

Daryl walked into the room. "Everythin' looks good. No sign of nothin', livin' or dead that I can see."

He plopped down next to her on the couch, kicking off his boots and putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Whatcha got there?" he asked.

"Their wedding album. Doug and Christine's." She shut it and put it on the table next to his feet.

"Doug and Christine?" He asked, the smile he reserved for when he thought she was being weird lighting up his face. "They friends of yours?" He teased.

She took a playful swat at him and he grabbed her wrist. She laughed and tried with her other hand, which he captured just as easily.

"Got any moves left, girl?"

Kate smiled at him wickedly before slipping her leg over him and settling onto his lap.

"Just one." She said quietly. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. She leaned down and kissed him slowly. He let her hands go and moved his to her hips, digging his thumbs into the bones. She pulled away from him and pushed the hair out of his eyes, before taking his face in her hands and kissing him again. He tasted like sweat and cigarettes and his stubble scratched at her hands. She unbuttoned her flannel, watching his face the entire time as he looked at her. She pulled it off and tossed it aside. She could feel him hard beneath her and she moved slowly over him. He reached up with one hand, wrapping it around the back of her neck and pulling her face to his, eagerly kissing her mouth. His other hand wandered to her breasts, tugging the cups of her bra down.

Her hands worked the buttons of his shirt and he leaned forward as she pushed it and his leather vest off his shoulders at the same time. He sat up to shake them off his arms, his bare chest tightening with the task. She ran her hands down his sinewy arms and felt them harden as he reached behind her to undo her bra clasp. She rose up on her knees and he undid her jeans, pushing them off her hips. She tried to untangle her legs from her pants without leaving his lap, but gave up, laughing at her clumsiness and standing to kick them off. He took the opportunity to pull his pants off and grabbed a condom out of his pocket. He leaned back on the couch.

"Take your hair down."

She reached up and pulled the elastic band that held her ponytail together out and shook her hair out a little before pushing off her underwear and climbing back onto the couch. She got back in his lap and slowly lowered herself onto him. They both exhaled, finding each other's mouths and slowly starting to move together. He grabbed her hips, using them to direct her movements and set the pace. She let herself get lost in the moment, knowing that for once she didn't have to worry about someone walking into their cell or hearing their muffled sighs. No one could throw the tower door open or call up to them either. It was just the two of them, completely alone. It didn't take long before she felt the energy building up, her breath quickening. She grasped onto his arms, her movements more frenzied, before the waves crashed down on her. She slowed down and Daryl, out of frustration at the change in pace, wrapped an arm around her waist, and turned her onto the couch in one movement. He moved over her powerfully, until he tensed, his body shuddering and a groan escaped his throat. He fell against her, spent and sweaty.

Daryl

They laid tangled together for while, he had pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and covered them up. She was curled into his side, her leg over his body and her hand absentmindedly running through the hair on his chest. He knew they should probably get up and get dressed, the last thing he wanted to be when fighting off walkers (or people) was naked, but he couldn't bring himself to leave her arms just yet. There was something about being with her like this that eased his mind, caused the noise that was always there to fade into the background.

Being here alone with her felt surreal. He wasn't used to having her all to himself and definitely not in such a domestic setting. He felt like they were playing house. If it was possible to feel content and claustrophobic at the same time, then he did. Daryl didn't belong in a place like this, but she looked right at home. Something about that bothered him, but he couldn't say exactly what.

His eye caught the wedding album she had left on the table. He reached over and flipped the cover open. There was a picture of a pretty girl in a ridiculously poofy dress and a man standing next to her smiling in a tuxedo. He found himself wondering again if that was what Kate had always wanted - a wedding, marriage, a house, a family. All things he wouldn't have been able to give her in the old world.

"Is this what you want? Wanted?"

"What? A wedding? I guess I did before. Kind of weird the things I used to think were important."

"You don't anymore?"

"No. I mean, not the wedding part. Not the dress, tuxedo and cake. It seems kind of wasteful and distracting. That's not really what promising your life to someone should be about, you know? The promise, that's what's important to me still."

Daryl didn't say anything, but he wanted to tell her that he did know because he had promised his life to her a long time ago. Whatever this was that they had been doing these last several months, was what he wanted to keep doing for the rest of their lives. He loved her more than he ever thought was possible and he wanted to tell her that too, but for some reason he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. She deserved to hear it though and he was frustrated with himself again that he might not be loving her the way she should be.

"I always wanted kids too. Had names picked out and everything." She said, an unmistakable sadness creeping into her voice. "But bringing babies into this world sounds like the single scariest thing I can think of. I just don't think I could do it."

Hearing her say that came as a relief, although he was surprised that he felt a little sad about it too. The thought of kids had always seemed like too much responsibility, but now, it was a whole new level of worry.

"Ya. I don't envy Rick."

"What about you Daryl? Did you ever want to get married and have a family?"

He should have known that sooner or later this conversation would shift back to him and he immediately felt antsy.

"Naw. Never thought on it really" He said, pulling away from her and sitting up on the couch. " I was barely taking care of myself."

She sat up too, pressing her chest against his bare back. His muscles tensed suddenly as her skin came in contact with the scars that crisscrossed across his back, but he didn't pull away. She'd seen them many times before, she'd run her hands over the twisted skin, and even though he waited for the questions, the pity, she never asked. She just accepted them as part of him. As if sensing where his thoughts had gone, she raised her finger to the puckered skin and traced one of the scars from his right shoulder blade to the middle of his back, before dipping her head down and kissing it.

"My old man. When he drank he would..." He motioned weakly to his back and trailed off. "Anyway, Dixons ain't exactly cut out for family life anyway."

He reached down and grabbed his tattered black pants from the floor.

"You aren't like him." She said and kissed his shoulder. "It wouldn't be like that, if you were a father, I know it wouldn't."

He looked back at her and snuffed, but he knew she really believed that and that meant something to him.

"Better get dressed. Don't want to be fighting off walkers in our birthday suits."

The sunlight streaming through the boards on the window shone brightly in his eyes. He threw his forearm over his face and groaned. He heard Kate moving around in the kitchen and wondered how long she had let him sleep. They had a long drive in front of them and they still needed to stop at the feed store.

Last night he had taken first watch. Kate thought she wanted to sleep in the big, comfortable bed upstairs, but hardly any time had passed before she was back downstairs and curled up on the couch. She said she didn't like being that far away from him and he was relieved because he felt the same way. The night had passed uneventfully and when he woke her so he could sleep for awhile he fell asleep easily.

He sat up slowly just as Kate came around the corner. She was wearing a new shirt, undoubtedly something she had found upstairs. It was bright blue and made her matching eyes look like jewels.

She smiled brightly at him, "Good Morning." She crossed the room to kiss him. "How'd you sleep?"

He suddenly didn't care how much they had to do today, he wanted her. He pulled her down to the couch, letting his intentions be known.

Half an hour later, both of them dressed again and ready to go, Daryl pushed the couch away from the front door. He left Kate in the house, all their bags ready to go and at the front step, and he headed down the quiet street to get their truck. He drove it right up the driveway and grabbed the bags, adding them to the bag of plumbing equipment he had put back in the bed of the truck.

Kate climbed into the cab, snapping her seatbelt on and they were on their way, turning out of the neighborhood and speeding down the main road. He'd mapped out the location of two feed stores that they could hit on the way back and the first one was probably two hours out. With a little luck it would be an easy run and they'd be back at the prison well before dark.